All flowers, in time.
Portra 160 // Minolta SRT 100
All souped, developed, & scanned with love.
Thank you.
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.

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DEAR READER
sheepfilms

tannertan36
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Jules of Nature

★
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Show & Tell
d e v o n
🪼
AnasAbdin

Discoholic 🪩

PR's Tumblrdome
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seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from Germany

seen from India
seen from Germany

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Spain
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seen from United States
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@mother-muse
All flowers, in time.
Portra 160 // Minolta SRT 100
All souped, developed, & scanned with love.
Thank you.
ibis_hospital
Frederick Carter (1883–1967), “The Dragon of the Alchemists”
engraved on wood by W.M. Quick, 1936
source
“Suffering modifies the image of time. The eruption of suffering cancels out linear time, breaks it, makes it into whirling squiggles. The night of time crouches at the edges of the dawn of today and tomorrow. Suffering casts us down among our single-celled ancestors, among the quarrelsome or terrorized muttering in the caves, among the female divinities expelled into the darkness of the earth, even as we keep ourselves anchored — let’s say — to the computer we’re writing on. Strong feelings are like that: they explode chronology. An emotion is a somersault, a tumble, a dizzying pirouette.”
— Elena Ferrante, Frantumaglia
Andy Warhol, Orange Car Crash Fourteen Times, 1963
under blou ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
[//dancing]
honey,
they’re trying to kill me for the crime of kind and I want to go home. I want to take all my iron all the way off and slip into the ocean. I want to bury Alisa’s bow and my marrowed arrows with weeks of Winter on the beach. I want to shine my horns and bleach my wings. I want to wash away their bruising brushed on me in eons of saline. I want the static lullaby of seaskull to lead me out of joan and beneath a register and hugging her knees on Highway 18. I want hot april oranges and a cheek on my cheek and no teeth. some teeth. true teeth. muse indigo deusdream. blue like you but lined silverstein. I’m doing as gold as ever as you knew me to bee. from the beginning. thank you still for seeing me then and thank you now for still seeing. I pray the sun eases those bouldered shoulders every morning. you get the paper I’ll make the coffee. sway a secondhand story-time chair sunday easy. and if you won’t quit, would you smoke one for Susie for me?
- playing//
©Philomena Famulok
.
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. IV: 1944-1947
{ plum::fuzz }
//
canon sd1100
Kiki Smith (American, 1954) - Cathedral (Wolf) (2013)
(x)
tonight’s skull static offerings.
p.s. - the river bottom choir is singing.
who up letting the synchronicity machine scare them super bad because it hasn’t happened that strongly in a long time ahah